Chapter Text
“Tell me,” Gaara says.
It’s more of a demand than a request, habit after becoming Kazekage when the only way to get something done was to command it be so. It should sit wrong with him, or he feels it should, that ordering people about comes naturally to him.
Just something in the blood , Kankuro had said to him one day with no particular amount of seriousness. Leading people, I mean. You’re good at it. The old man was a bastard, y’know, but he was a more than decent leader.
Kankuro had smiled, his face paint cracking under the hot sun. Don’t worry, little brother , he had said. I think you’re way better.
Gaara wants nothing to do with that man whose seed bore him, who hated and feared the demon he created in ignorance, who died like a starving dog in the desert and was left where he fell for insects and scavengers to feast upon.
Still, the demand rolls easily from his tongue.
He can’t regret it. He likes it even, being obeyed.
He had liked it before too, even when all he could bring himself to say to other people had been a myriad of threats to their life. Fear was better than indifference, better than anger, better than hatred.
There had been some who hated and feared, but as long as fear had been the greater emotion then Gaara had been satisfied. It’s hard to say why now. Back then his mind had been a terrible thing, just bloody cravings and sand-sharpened glass edges. Dark and fragile.
Unstable. That man had been right. Gaara, in the past, had been violently unstable.
But he isn’t anymore. He’s found his balance, his inner peace. He has clearly defined enemies and things he wants to protect. The all consuming desire to break (things, people, the whole world) simply isn’t there anymore.
He doesn’t miss it.
“Tell me,” Gaara says again, voice level. It doesn’t shake even though his heart feels like it’s falling apart bit by quivering bit.
Naruto’s arms wind around his neck and pull him down until their foreheads touch, so close that his friend’s wide blue eyes become a single pool of crystal, an oasis in the desert deep enough to drown in.
His breath smells of miso, the ramen he ate an hour before, and he smiles at Gaara like he always does, like he’s looking at something beautiful and something inside Gaara trembles .
It’s not at all like Yashimaru used to smile at him, not pitying or sad or burdened with memories of those he’s lost (that Gaara had killed).
Naruto’s smiles are entirely different. Gaara still can’t describe them correctly. He can’t put the warm feeling they give him into words, can’t find the perfect combination of letters to speak aloud what he understands instinctively.
How does one express genuine affection and soft love with a merely human voice? Surely, if anyone could, it would be Naruto when he says:
“I love you,” Naruto tells him, whispers it directly into his ear. A secret. A promise. A vow. “I love you. I love you more than anything.”
“Forever?” Gaara asks, knowing better. Shinobi cannot guarantee forever. He can’t give that to Naruto and Naruto can’t give it to him. Gaara feels like a hypocrite when he hears the childish note of desperation in the question. He knows, but he still wants so badly.
“Forever and ever,” Naruto promises because he always did like to chase the impossible. He is honest though. He always has been. He says what he means and Gaara believes him, believes in him like he does nothing else.
“Okay,” Gaara exhales against Naruto’s lips. A little shaky. But better. “Okay.”
They kiss and it’s like taking a breath of fresh air, like a sip of cool water on a hot summer day, refreshing and revitalizing. Kissing Naruto is like tasting life and it’s the very best thing in the world and Gaara is just so— amazed that he can do this. That Naruto allows it. Allows him.
“Naruto?” Gaara says some time later, one finger trailing lightly over the pulse point in Naruto’s neck. It thrums, strong and steady, and the longer Gaara touches it the calmer he feels. He would give so much if only this one heart out of a thousand never went still and silent.
“Mm?” Naruto inquires lazily, unconcerned. He turns his head to give Gaara better access to the skin he’s mapping by touch.
“I love you.”
Naruto beams and that small something in Gaara’s chest tightens as it always does and there’s the warmth again that has nothing to do with Suna’s sun or desert heat.
“I know you do,” Naruto replies, catching Gaara’s hand and pressing his lips against his palm, mindless of the flecks of sand that never fall away. “I love you too.”
Naruto would do this forever, Gaara realizes. Would constantly reinforce what Gaara already knows as many times as he needed to make him believe it. And he does. He does, he does, and Gaara loves him so much he can hardly bear it sometimes and Naruto loves him.
“I know,” Gaara says quietly.
Naruto looks at him for a long time with a serious face, considering, before his gentle smile transforms into a huge grin showing all his teeth in an expression that is so plainly pleased that Gaara cannot help but smile back at him in return.
“Good.” Naruto throws an arm around him and they settle, together. “Good.”